An NCIS Carol
by PrairieLily
Summary: The team gathers for Christmas, and Ducky treats them to a story. 5 chapters, daily updates. COMPLETE. Happy Holidays everyone!
1. Let the Story Begin

**Title: An NCIS Carol**

**Rating:** T to be safe

**Disclaimer: **Caitlin, JT, Michaela, Jeremy, and Jasmine are my creation. The others are not mine. No infringement intended. No infringement intended on Charles Dickens, either. ;)

**Summary:** The team gathers for Christmas, and Ducky tells a story

**Pairings:** McGee/Abby, Tony/Faith, Palmer/Jasmine

"Uncle Ducky, tell us a story?"

Ducky gazed down at 6 year old Caitlin McGee, and her partner in crime, JT DiNozzo. "Caitlin, I don't think I have a story for you, my dear," he gently teased.

"Aw, Uncle Ducky, you've ALWAYS got a story," JT scolded, pouting slightly.

"That, he certainly does," Jimmy said, as he strolled in, carrying his 2-year-old daughter, Michaela, on one arm. He handed Ducky a cup of hot spiced cider, saying, "Here you go, Dr. Mallard. With a generous splash of rum, just the way you like it."

Ducky grinned at his successor in the NCIS morgue. "Thank you, Jimmy. Just what the doctor ordered," he said, with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

"That ought to loosen his tongue up nicely," Tony commented, from the kitchen. He strolled in, carrying the youngest of Jimmy and Jasmine's two children, Jeremy. "Ducky, I've never known you to be short of stories."

"Yeah, Ducky," Tim said, as he followed Abby into Tony and Faith's living room. "And it's Christmas. I mean, if ever there was a time for a good story, it's now."

Gibbs settled down at the end of the sofa, coffee in hand. "They've got a point, Duck."

"Guys, are we gonna need more cider?" Faith called from the kitchen.

"YES!" came the emphatic answer, from Abby. "Ducky's gonna tell us a story, he needs to keep his throat from getting dry!"

Ducky sighed with resignation. "I don't think I like being ganged up on, Abigail," he said, trying without success to keep from smiling.

"Uncle Ducky… pleeeeeaaaaaaase," Caitlin begged. "Pretty please, Uncle Ducky?" JT added, for good measure.

"With sugar on top, Uncle Ducky?" Ducky frowned and scowled at Jimmy, who sat with a cheeky grin and a Christmas sparkle in his eyes. "Really, Dr. Palmer. I should think that a grown man such as yourself should be past begging."

"He isn't," Jasmine said, as she, too, entered the living room. She winked at her husband, and stuck her tongue out at her brother, Tim, as he rolled his eyes and smiled. Jasmine turned and returned to the kitchen to help Faith carry in the trays of snacks and drinks.

"Well," Jimmy said, defensively, "it's been a long time since you were in autopsy to lend a hand, Doctor. I really miss your stories. They made a long, drawn out day go a lot faster."

"A-ha!" Ducky said, triumphantly, pointing a finger at Gibbs. "See! I _told_ you Jethro. Not everyone hates my digressions. Some even find them entertaining, and I daresay, even educational."

Abby and Tim glanced at each other and smiled, as they saw their daughter impatiently scowl her McGee scowl. "She gets that from you, hon," Abby whispered to him. Tim grinned at her, green eyes shining. "I know, isn't it cool?' he remarked, proudly. Abby rolled her eyes playfully at her husband. "Whatever," she said, shaking her head. They turned and saw Tony and Faith bite their lips to keep from laughing, as JT made a face that was unmistakably a DiNozzo "dirty look."

"Well, then… I _suppose_. One story can't be all that difficult to conjure up." He smiled inwardly as he sipped at his cider, peering at the group over the rim of his cup. He had them right where he wanted them, now. And he also had their absolute undivided attention.

And, he had rum in his cider. Ah… life was good.

"Caitlin, my dear, who would you like to sit with - me, or your parents?"

Caitlin gazed up at him, adoringly. "You, Uncle Ducky. Can JT sit with us too?"

Ducky glanced down at Tony's son, noting the striking similarity between JT's charming expression, and the one that they had so often witnessed, coming from Tony.

"Oh, why not," he said. He settled down in Tony's big easy chair, and put his feet up. Caitlin and JT scrambled up, and settled down. Ducky waited for everyone to settle down themselves, and for Faith and Jasmine to reappear from the kitchen, one last time. "Last chance for bathroom break," Faith pointed out. She waited a moment, and smiled. Everyone seemed okay for now.

"Now, then, are we all set?" he asked. Jimmy grinned at him, then glanced down at Michaela, sleeping in his arms.

They all glanced at the door, as the bell rang. "Not quite," Tony said, going to answer it.

"Ziva! Happy Hanukkah!" Tony said, hugging the last of the team members to arrive. Ziva smiled at them as Tony quickly kissed both her cheeks. "I come bearing goodies," Ziva said proudly. She swept into the house, and quickly retreated to the kitchen to drop the tray off on the counter. She returned in time to have Tim tell her, "You're just in time, Ziva. Ducky's telling us a story." Ziva grinned giddily, as Gibbs motioned her over to the final empty sitting spot, next to him. "I don't bite… usually," he pointed out. Ziva settled down, curling her legs up underneath herself.

"I think we're all ready now, Doctor," Jimmy said. "Let the story begin."


	2. A Ghostly Heads Up

**A Ghostly Heads-Up**

_Once upon a time, in an NCIS forensics lab far, far away, there dwelled a beautiful, dark haired Princess…_

"Oh, come ON, Duckman," Abby protested, blushing. Tim chuckled softly, glancing at his wife. Gibbs laughed, shaking his head. Since when did Abby mind being the fairy tale princess?

Oh… right. She wasn't the Princess type.

Ducky cleared his throat. "Well, you wanted a story. You didn't specify what it should be about," he pointed out, with a raised eyebrow.

"How about a Christmas story, Ducky?" Faith suggested. Tony nodded, smiling. "Sounds like a good idea," he said, agreeably.

Ducky sighed. This was a tough crowd.

"Very well, then."

_Once upon a time, in an NCIS squad room far, far away, there dwelled a mean, cranky, caffeine addicted team leader named…_

"DOCTOR Mallard," Gibbs protested, loudly. Tim and Tony grinned at each other, then shared the same grin with Ziva. "I don't know, Gibbs," Ziva said, sweetly. "I kind of like this story."

Gibbs sighed. "I need more coffee," he pouted. Ducky smiled as the group seemed to urge him to continue.

_A mean, cranky, caffeine addicted team leader named Gibbs. Now, Gibbs' team was dedicated to him, make no mistake about that, but they had far too often been called in to work on days when they should have been allowed to stay home and unwind._

_One day, why, it was Christmas Eve day, to be sure, his team had all gone home, save for one - his youngest agent, Timothy._

Caitlin smiled. "Do you mean, Daddy, Uncle Ducky?"

"Perhaps," he granted her, with a smile and a slight turn of his head. He glanced over at Tim, who was now himself blushing.

_Timothy was slaving away at his desk, slowly working his way through a veritable mountain of paperwork that Gibbs had saddled him with. Timothy knew that it was pointless to protest being kept back, so he remained quiet as he quietly worked through his assignments. Only the soft hum of his computer, and the tick ticking of his fingers on his keyboard could be heard throughout the squad room._

"McGee, I'm not THAT bad, am I?" Gibbs suddenly asked. Tim frowned a moment, as if contemplating the question. "Uh… no, Boss. Not usually."

"Not usually," Gibbs muttered to himself, as Ducky continued.

_"Boss," Timothy said, looking up from his work. "Would it be alright if I took tomorrow off?"_

_Gibbs was stunned at the sheer audacity of the request. "Tomorrow off? I don't think so, McGee. We've got a backlog that isn't going to take care of itself."_

_"But, Boss… it's Christmas. And Abby was really looking forward to spending the day with me and the…"_

_Gibbs glared at his young agent. Finally, he said, "Well, I suppose if you must, you must. But be here all the earlier the next morning." _

_Young Timothy nodded solemnly, and waited for Gibbs to turn away before smiling._

_When the hour struck, Timothy gathered his things, and promptly left, before Gibbs had a chance to change his mind._

_And so, Gibbs was left alone in the squad room. He was quite grumpy, you see. His coffee had just run out, and his usual coffee shop had closed early for the holiday._

_He got up, gathered his coat, and left for home._

_Now, Gibbs doesn't believe in many things._

"Coincidences, for one thing," Tony piped in, grinning cheekily, and doing his best Gibbs impersonation. Gibbs chuckled softly at this.

"Yes, Anthony. Gibbs does not believe in coincidences," Ducky said, nodding.

_Gibbs does not believe in coincidences. And Gibbs most decidedly does not believe in ghosts._

_So, imagine his shock and surprise when he should return home, only to find that the mirror in his entrance should reflect back to him the face of one of his lost ones._

"Miss Todd?" JT asked, curiously. The team smiled softly at this. They had made sure that the children knew about Kate, how wonderful she had been, and how much she would have adored being "Auntie Katie."

"Yes, JT. Miss Todd," Ducky said, solemnly.

_The face that stared back at him was indeed none other than Special Agent Caitlin Todd._

"I'm named after her, aren't I, Mommy?" Caitlin suddenly said, turning to Abby. Abby smiled at her daughter. "You sure are, baby girl."

Caitlin turned her attention back to Uncle Ducky.

_Gibbs at first brushed it off as being a mere side effect of caffeine withdrawal. He blinked, and looked again in the mirror, but the reflection remained._

_He shook his head, and turned away, deciding that he needed to go work on his boat to clear his head. Clearly, some kind of hallucinogenic chemical had found its way into his coffee._

_"Don't you believe in me?" the ghostly voice suddenly said. Gibbs stopped dead in his tracks. "Kate?" he asked._

_"Yes, Gibbs. I ask you again, don't you believe in me?"_

_Gibbs sat down, feeling suddenly rather weak in the knees._

"I do NOT get weak in the knees, Duck," Gibbs protested again.

"Jethro, MAY I please tell the story?" Jasmine smiled at Jimmy, then got up. "Hang on a second, Ducky. I think our Fearless Leader needs a refill to put him back in his happy place."

"McGee, has she always been this much of a pain in the ass?"

Tim cleared his throat. "She's my baby sister. It was her job." Tony snorted and coughed as he tried to swallow a mouthful of cider at just the wrong moment. "She knows where you live, Probie, and you have to sleep sometime," he reminded his colleague, after he'd finished choking on his beverage, and caught his breath.

Jasmine returned quickly, and Ducky continued.

_"Dedication is fine, Gibbs. But look where it got me?"_

_Gibbs glared at the spectre._

_"If you continue on this path, it can lead you to no happy endings, I assure you. But it isn't too late to change."_

_"Why would I want to change, Katie?" Gibbs asked her, rather petulantly, I might add._

_"Because some things are worth dying for, and some things are not. Your job is not worth dying for. Lighten up, Gibbs."_

_"Is that an order, Agent Todd?"_

_"Hey… if it walks like a duck and sounds like a duck… odds are, it ain't a penguin."_

_Gibbs continued to give her his famous glare. "Tonight you will be visited by three spirits. Listen to them, Gibbs. Take their advice to heart. Remember, it isn't too late to escape my fate…" the ghost said, as she faded from view, and finally, was nothing more than a fine cloud of mist, rapidly dissipating in the air._

_"Bull," Gibbs said. He glanced over to his bottle of bourbon, but found it empty. "Might as well go to bed, then," he muttered to himself._

"Pee break!" Ziva suddenly declared. When everyone looked at her, she shrugged. "It was a long drive over here, and I had a big cup of coffee before leaving."

The group took the opportunity to get up and stretch their legs. Tony added more wood to the fireplace, and Jimmy went off to change Jeremy's diaper. Tim arose and retrieved his niece's favourite blankie, and Abby refreshed her cider with Caf-Pow chaser. Faith retrieved blankets to curl up in, from the linen closet.

When everyone had once again settled in, Ducky continued.


	3. The Ghost of Workaholic Past

**Workaholic Past**

_When Gibbs had finally turned in, he lay awake. Now, it must be understood, that Gibbs still does not believe in ghosts. But the sudden appearance of Agent Todd had most definitely unnerved him. So he lay awake, restless, thinking all the while that if he were to simply lay there counting the popcorn on the ceiling, then perhaps he'd be better off to be downstairs, spending his time productively, working on his boat._

_Suddenly, his bedroom blinds began to knock against the wood frame of the window. Gibbs lay motionless, he'd been sure he'd closed the window. He carefully and quietly arose from bed, and checked the window again._

_He nearly had a cardiac incident when a voice was heard from behind._

_"There you are, Agent Gibbs. I checked your basement first, but you weren't there."_

_"Palmer?" Gibbs muttered to himself, slowly turning around._

JT giggled. "Uncle Jimmy?" he asked suddenly. Ducky nodded. "Yes, JT. Uncle Jimmy." He glanced at the young M.E., who had settled down next to Jasmine, and was rocking Jeremy gently in his car seat with one foot.

_"Palmer, do NOT tell me that you're one of the…"_

_"Three spirits? Actually, Agent Gibbs, I am. I'm the ghost of Workaholic Past."_

_"Don't you mean, the ghost of CHRISTMAS Past?" Gibbs asked him, confused._

_"You don't look like a mean old tightwad miser to me, Sir."_

_Gibbs grumbled. "Do not call me Sir, Palmer."_

_The spirit before him ignored this. "I'm here to show you what you were like, before your work took over your life so completely."_

_"You're gonna SHOW me, right? You're not gonna tell me one of those endless stories like Ducky does, are you?" Gibbs seemed worried about this._

_"Well, I could if I wanted to. I'm the ghost, here, it's my show right now. But no, I'll be showing you," Jimmy said, grinning sweetly. With that, he reached out and touched Gibbs' arm, and the interior of his bedroom suddenly faded away._

"Jimmy, I know we sometimes joke that you haunt Autopsy, but I had no idea that it was such a literal thing," Tony commented lightly.

Jimmy winked at him, and pointed to his and Jasmine's two offspring. "I don't spend ALL of my time there," he said, waggling his eyebrows briefly. Jasmine glanced at Tony and winked, as if confirming what her husband had just said.

Ducky paused a moment from his story, while Caitlin and JT jumped down and switched sides. He took a sip from his cider. My, that was wonderful stuff. How much rum had Jasmine put in it, anyway? It certainly tasted like another one…

He cleared his throat.

_When their surroundings once again materialised, Gibbs was surprised to find himself in his childhood home._

_"See, Agent Gibbs… you used to do something that all children like to do."_

_"What's that?" he asked, absently. He was fascinated by his surroundings, so filled with childhood memories. It suddenly occurred to him that whatever his coffee had been spiked with, it was good stuff. It almost tasted like another one._

"Do you need a refill, Ducky?" Faith asked. Ducky smiled. "Yes, Faith, that would be wonderful, thank you my dear. Now, where was I… oh, yes."

_"You used to have fun. You used to enjoy life, as all children do."_

_"Do I LOOK like a child to you, Jimmy?" Jimmy smiled at him, with his usual warm grin. "No, of course you don't. But we all have an inner child that allows us to unwind and remember simpler times. Even as adults… well, especially as adults. Things can become so complicated, so quickly. Having fun and acting young now and then can help us to remain grounded."_

_"I was a cute kid," Gibbs observed, suddenly. Jimmy frowned at him. "You're trying to change the subject, Sir. And I will call you that if I want to. So there."_

_"So there. You sound like a little kid, Palmer," Gibbs responded, disdainfully._

_"Well, maybe, but it just goes to show that I haven't lost touch with my inner child. Yours has been sent to summer camp and never heard from again."_

_"Okay, so it was a simpler time. And I enjoyed it. I even miss it, sometimes," Gibbs was finally forced to admit. Jimmy sighed happily. "Now, we're getting somewhere, Jethro."_

_Gibbs glared at him, briefly, then decided it was pointless to argue with a ghost, even if it was the ghost of Jimmy Palmer. "That's more like it. Be more open minded, Agent Gibbs. Don't be such a stuffy old stick-in-the-mud. Enjoy life a little, like you did when you were a child."_

_"Well… maybe, you're right," Gibbs finally admitted._

_"My time here is running short," Jimmy said. "We need to get you home." Gibbs frowned again. "Home" was what Jimmy and Ducky referred to as the morgue back at NCIS. "Not THAT home, Agent Gibbs. You're not that far gone yet. Believe me, I'd know if you were. No, I mean, your home. The one with the boat in the basement that you still have no earthly idea how you're going to get it outside."_

_"Well… you're not of this earth, are you Palmer?" Gibbs asked, hopefully. The ghost shook his head. "No."_

_"Do YOU have any ideas how to get it out?" Palmer shook his head again, shrugging his shoulders regretfully. "Not a clue."_

_Gibbs shrugged as his surroundings once again vanished before his eyes. When he materialised in his bedroom again, he just had time to mutter, "Well, it was worth a shot, anyway," as he realised that he was once again alone with his thoughts._

"Snack break!" Ziva called out suddenly. The group glanced at her as she jumped up and dashed into the kitchen to retrieve the tray of goodies she'd arrived with. As the tray made its way around the room, Ducky sat quietly, thinking about the next chapter of his story.


	4. The Ghost of Workaholic Present

**Workaholic Present**

_Gibbs was just about to crawl back into his bed, when he remembered Kate's prediction._

_He would be visited by three spirits. Well, one down, two to go. Might as well be comfortable while he waited, though._

_He slipped back underneath his covers, and quietly waited for the second of the three spirits to arrive._

_He was hardly surprised when he heard Anthony's voice echo through his bedroom._

This time, it was JT's turn to ask Ducky, "You mean Daddy?" Ducky nodded, as Tony grinned, and polished his nails briefly on his shirt. He wondered when he'd make it into this little tale. He snuggled down contentedly against Faith, and sighed happily. "Shush, Son. Uncle Ducky is trying to tell us a story," Tony scolded lightly.

_"DiNozzo," Gibbs stated flatly._

_"YEAH, BOSS!" the ghost said with a flourish of his hands and a large, bright grin._

_"Figures. Okay, what have you got to show me? Make it quick. You've just gotten here and there's one spirit left to go, and I need to get enough sleep to get to work tomorrow. Especially since McGee's got the day off. So do you, come to think of it. How'd you manage that, anyway Tony?"_

_"My irresistible charm," the ghost grinned brightly. Gibbs shielded his eyes as a sudden ray of blinding light was emitted from the spectre before him._

_"So, I am the ghost of Workaholic Present. I trust Jimmy explained to you already why I'm not the ghost of CHRISTMAS Present?" Gibbs nodded, tired. "He did. With surprising brevity, I might add."_

_"Well, Boss, he isn't Ducky. Although sometimes I wonder if Duck isn't rubbing off on him… anyway, that's not the point. The point is, right now. The Present."_

_"Well, show me what you've got, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, resigned. Anthony smiled, this time with a warm expression. "This way, Boss," he said, as he gently reached out and touched his arm._

Gibbs got up briefly, to stretch his legs, and to add another log to the fire. He sat back down, in time to have Michaela awaken and crawl down from her Uncle Tim's lap, and over to his. He smiled down at the toddler. "Hey sweetie," he said softly, lifting her up. She settled down with her favourite blankie, and the small hippo that Auntie Abby had given her.

_When Gibbs and Anthony materialised again, they were, in of all places, Timothy and Abigail's home, on Christmas Day._

_Timothy was trying to assemble a toy for his little girl, but was having trouble concentrating._

_"Tim, honey, you build computer systems from the logarithm up. You can't put a scooter together?" Abigail was worried that her husband suddenly seemed so uncharacteristically inept._

Tim scowled at Tony as the older man snorted, then cleared his throat, sheepishly. "Sorry, McGee," he said.

_"Just forget about work, just for this one day, please? Tony and Faith are coming over soon, and Jimmy and Jasmine, and Ducky. I want you to forget about work and just enjoy the day, and the togetherness with everyone we care about."_

_Timothy sighed. "You're right, Abs, of course you're right. Forget about work. I think I can do that. Maybe."_

_"That's my geek," Abigail said, kissing him on the cheek. When Timothy looked up, he saw that she held a small sprig of mistletoe over his head._

Tim was startled from the story by the feel of Abby kissing his cheek. He glanced up briefly, to see that she was holding a sprig of mistletoe. "You didn't just make that part up, did you Ducky?" he asked suspiciously. Ducky smiled cheekily. "Of course not, Timothy. Much of this story is based on life as we know it." Tim took a moment to kiss Abby back, then their attention returned to Ducky once again, but not before Tony said, "Psssst, Abs, pass that over here, will ya?" Faith blushed slightly as the sprig flew across the room and Tony snatched it out of the air.

_"I just can't stop thinking about Gibbs. Maybe I shouldn't have taken today off after all. There's going to be the same backlog I left on my desk, plus whatever new stuff pops up tomorrow."_

_"McGee, suck it up. It's Christmas. Have fun, already!"_

_The ghost turned to Gibbs. "See, you've taken a wonderful time like Christmas Day, and turned it into a big stress fest for Probie. I mean, McGee. I mean, Tim." Gibbs looked on, and couldn't quite help the little niggling of guilt that was beginning to form in his soul._

_"I'd show you my house, but it's pretty much the same. Faith is giving me the same speech that Abs is giving Tim. And when we arrive at their place in a little while, there will be two Special Agents feeling guilty that they've taken the day off, and two irritated wives who are trying to convince them that even GOD took a day off."_

_"Am I really that bad?" Gibbs asked, regret seeping into his voice._

_"Uh, lemme think about that a minute yeah Boss." Anthony said smoothly._

_Gibbs sighed sadly. "Okay, so you've got a point. I'm a wuh… wuh… wuh… wuhrga… wuhrga…" Gibbs found himself unable to form the word._

_"Workaholic, Boss," Anthony helpfully volunteered. "Yeah, that, DiNozzo," Gibbs said._

_"Well, the hardest part is to admit you have a problem." Anthony winked at Gibbs._

_"Oh, hey Tony," he suddenly asked, "Any chance of me getting a refill on my coffee before we head back home?"_

_Anthony sighed. "I guess, maybe… we probably should. You won't be much fun for the third spirit if we don't get you refuelled. I think there's a Tim Hortons open in Detroit."_

_"Detroit? DiNozzo, you're not dragging me all the way over to…" Gibbs began to protest, when he suddenly found himself in the drive-through of an all-night Tim Hortons. "Extra large, black," Anthony ordered, through the speaker. "Anything else, Sir?" the friendly voice asked. "Nope. That'll do it."_

_Gibbs frowned at the unfamiliar brew as Anthony handed it over. "Any port in a storm, right Boss?" he said brightly, as their surroundings suddenly turned misty and vague, and Gibbs' bedroom suddenly reappeared._

_When Gibbs turned to comment on the coffee, he found that once again, he was alone._

"I'm pretty insightful, aren't I?" Tony said, proudly. Ducky smiled at him, as he once again raised the cup to his lips to whet his whistle. He was startled to find the cup empty again. This time, it was Abby who smiled as she wordlessly got up to refill their storyteller's beverage.

When she had returned, and Ducky had smiled at her like a kid in a Toys R Us on Christmas Eve, she settled down next to Tim again, snuggling down as he wrapped her up in his arms contentedly


	5. The Ghost of Workaholic Yet to Come

**Workaholic Yet to Come**

_Gibbs was most definitely in his happy place again, with the steamy brew in his hands. He almost didn't care what else happened tonight. But, he had to admit, that Jimmy and Anthony had had very valid points. Perhaps he did need to lighten up on his agents, and most especially, on himself._

_He wasn't surprised to feel a breeze in his room, but was a bit startled to discover who it was who stood before him, in all her ghostly glory._

Ducky smiled warmly over at Ziva, whose eyes suddenly became wide with surprise. "ME, Ducky?" she asked, delighted. Ducky smiled at her, as her face lit up like an excited little girl, and hereturned to the story.

_"Ziva," Gibbs said. Ziva stood before him, in flowing garments, and her hair stirring lightly as if in a gentle breeze. "We have to make this quick, Gibbs." Gibbs turned to her. "Because your time on earth is short?" he asked, quite seriously._

_"No, because this breeze is wreaking havoc with my hair. It will take me forever to get the tangles out if I remain here too long. And I'm a ghost. I DO mean forever." She winked at him._

_Gibbs smiled at this. "Your hair is kind've… well, it does seem to have a personality all its own."_

_Ziva nodded. "I see that Jimmy and Tony have gotten through to you somewhat?"_

_Gibbs smiled again. "I think so. Whatever you have to show me tonight, I'm ready to listen. So, you would be the ghost of Workaholic Yet to Come?"_

_"Well, of course, Gibbs. I'm Jewish. I certainly wouldn't be the ghost of CHRISTMAS yet to come. Hanukkah Yet to Come, maybe… but no. Workaholic yet to come," she confirmed, with a small smile and a sparkle in her dark eyes._

_"Well, let's go, then. I'd hate to think of Jimmy and Tony having to listen to you forever complain about your bad hair… uh… eternity."_

_"Ah, to have just a DAY of bad hair… how I miss it so," Ziva lamented, sadly._

_Gibbs closed his eyes as he felt a familiar pull, and knew that Ziva was whisking him away from his bedroom._

_He was startled to see himself in the squad room._

_"Okay, I know there's a point to this," he said, worried._

_"Oh, there is, believe me," the ghost reassured him. "That is still McGee's desk, and that is still Tony's desk, and that is still my desk. But that, over there…" she said, pointing to Gibbs' desk, "is now occupied by another."_

_Gibbs squinted. "Jen?"_

_Ziva shook her head, and Gibbs' reading glasses suddenly materialised in her outstretched hand._

_"Jen," Gibbs said, as he slipped his glasses on and took a better look. "But, she's the Director. Why is she at my desk?"_

_"She decided that she couldn't handle the stress of having you work under her. But when you… well, when you, um… "left" NCIS, it was the last hay for her, and she requested a demotion. She always was happier in the field, anyway. You taught her well."_

_"Straw, Ziva. You mean, "the last straw." Wait… what did you just say?" he asked, suddenly. "I'm leaving NCIS?" Gibbs was becoming increasingly worried._

_"Um… well, in a sense, yes."_

_Gibbs felt a familiar pull again, as they appeared at a lonely grave._

_"Oh, come ON, Ziva. You can't be serious. This isn't some old novel."_

_"No. But that doesn't change what happens to you… if you do not change, that is."_

_Gibbs protested as Ziva pulled him towards the ornate headstone._

_"Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs" he read. "Oh… no. Ziva, what happened?"_

_"You were killed in the line of duty. Rather unnecessarily, I might add. It was completely avoidable. You weren't protecting anyone from a terrorist act, you weren't protecting a family from a dangerous felon. You weren't protecting anyone, really. But you had pulled an allnighter, on top of a double shift, and you were tired. And you made a fatal mistake, because you didn't know when to go home and get some much needed rest."_

_"I was killed…?" Gibbs asked, as if he still didn't quite grasp the idea._

_"The greenest rookie would not have made the mistake you made, Gibbs."_

_"Ziva, I can change. I think I'm already changing. Tell me I can avoid this? I don't want to leave my team behind… it's a Marine thing…"_

_Ziva smiled at him. "Of course you can avoid this. The future is not written in stone, as these words on this headstone are. You can change it, by changing yourself."_

_Gibbs sighed with relief, and closed his eyes. The last thing he heard was Ziva muttering about the knots in her thick, unruly hair, when he opened his eyes, and found himself in his bed._

"A bad hair day is nothing to joke about," Ziva said, with mock petulance. "Any woman will tell you that."

Abby smiled at her, and she and Faith said in unison, "Amen, sister!"

_Gibbs threw back his covers. He glanced at his watch - it was December 25th. Christmas day. He hadn't missed it!_

_The first thing he had to do, was take a long, leisurely shower. Nothing rushed, just something relaxed, something to be savoured. Savouring the simple pleasures in life was something that he had very nearly forgotten about._

_Then, he had to get himself dressed. He had somewhere he needed to be. And for once, it wasn't the squad room. No - work would wait another day… his cases weren't going anywhere, after all. _

_Where he had to be, instead, was with his people, celebrating this day with them - his friends and family, just as it should be - and just as itshould have been for all these years. And, if McGee - who under ordinary circumstances could assemble technical gadgets with his eyes closed - was having so much trouble assembling a scooter, then he'd just have to pack up his trusty toolbox and take it with him._

_He chuckled to himself as he dressed, and dashed downstairs to retrieve his tools. His team would be SO surprised, they wouldn't know what to say._

_Ah, he thought to himself. Second chances were grand._

Ducky looked around, expectantly. The eager, entranced faces that surrounded him seemed to want some kind of conclusionary remark. The glittering dark eyes of Ziva, Faith, and JT; the sparkling blue eyes of Jethro. The shining green eyes of Timothy, Abigail, Anthony, Jimmy, Jasmine, and all the children, save for Anthony's son… oh, my. For a recessive gene, there certainly were a lot of green eyes amongst this group. Oh, but he was digressing again, he realized. Now, where was he again?

_Oh, yes, of course. _

_The end._


End file.
